Seniority
by PuzzleRaven
Summary: Vice-Admiral Holdo's assumption of command is challenged before she can take the role. (One-shot, TLJ/Original Triology & EU cross)


**Seniority**

"Vice Admiral Holdo, of the cruiser Ninka." D'Acy finished, and stepped back, making way for the Vice-Admiral.

"Thank you, Commander." Holdo held her head up, superior, her pressed dress a stark contrast to the uniformed garb of the crew she addressed. They were battered, tired, and worn. She was pristine, even her hair freshly dyed.

"For shame." The crowd parted in shock. Holdo looked towards the disruption, and the speaker stepped forward. The woman was elderly but unbowed. Her white robes were pristine, her short bobbed white hair in disarray as antique chains of office hung round her aged neck. Her cane tapped on the metal floor as she stopped in the middle of the entrance.

"For shame. We are not the Empire. Appointing leaders to follow blindly has never been our way. We freely follow the freely elected, or we are no more than the First Order."

"This is no time for a leadership contest," Holdo said, friendliness hardly masking condescension. "I will happily discuss this with you later, madam."

"If this is not the time, when is?" The challenge rang out clearly, and the crowd began to stir. Something in the straight back, the voice, was familiar. "If at the worst we desert our principles, can we claim to truly hold them?"

"Not now, when Leia might die. The spark of rebellion is flickering. We all have to pull together." Holdo chided, like a mother with a child. The woman's calm face actually paled, but she did not flinch.

"I do this because Leia might die. Because the Rebellion must survive, if freedom is not to perish." The woman rebutted, her face and carriage statemanlike. Holdo drew herself up.

"I was Leia's personal choice for her replacement."

"No. You are here because you weren't by her side." The older woman's face was calm, almost regal. The whispers in the crowd were growing, a name passed from mouth to ear and onwards. "Did you think anyone I raised would be so unwise as to put all their commanders on one ship?" Holdo looked confused, her voice light and dismissive.

"Leia's mother is dead. I'm sure this situation must be terribly confusing for you."

"In no way." The woman's head actually dipped for a long moment, then raised. "I have seen far worse times and led my people through them. I am here because you are inexperienced at true fleet battle, and offer my experience as a replacement."

"Get this women off my bridge." The whispers in the crowd died abruptly. No one moved. There was silence. The stranger looked round, at each of the unmoving guards, the crowd, and Holdo's frustrated anger. She drew a slow breath before she spoke.

"I will not lead the unwilling. If you follow me, lend my your hands." As her gaze swept the room, hands raised in its wake, until the forest was obvious. Holdo held her head high, stared down at the shorter woman.

"Leia gave me this duty. There is a chain of command."

"And I have seniority." The white-clad woman walked forward, cane tapping evenly as she leant on it.

"You have no official rank." Holdo objected, and the woman met her gaze, the slight smile still present.

"But I have been duly elected, by these and many others."

"Then let's talk privately." Holdo's smile was friendly as she placed a guiding hand on the woman's arm, using her youth, her greater height, to her advantage; an aide with an ailing elder. The woman did not move.

"About your plan? You have a plan, I presume?"

"Yes," Holdo replied, tolerantly.

"Only one, Admiral?" The disappointment in the calm voice was crushing. Holdo reacted as if it were a slap.

"And you'd share this in front of all these people? What about the mole?" Holdo's voice was projected clearly and the crowd stirred. "Or do you really believe they can track ships through hyperspace?" Holdo's very tone mocked the words, but the woman acknowledged her without anger.

"They have done so before, at Yavin. I was there. Now is not a time for us to doubt one another." The elderly woman freed her arm in one movement and turned, raising her voice to address the crowd. "We shall begin by transfering all but minimal crew off the lower-fuelled ships. Match velocity in real space for the transfers. I want fighters ready to deploy until the process is complete. The heads of each department are to prepare full briefings on their current resources and personnel, with any plans they believe will aid our escape. For security, they are to discuss these plans with no one save myself. You have ten minutes. Dismiss."

She turned as the crowd broke up, suddenly energised as they headed for duty stations and fighter bays.

"Vice-Admiral Holdo, you cannot command both the Ninka and the fleet. You may stand by my side or on her bridge. Choose one."

"Remind me, who are you again?" Holdo's voice was light, questioning, and too flighty for the challenge it held.

"Former Chancellor Mon Mothma. Founder of the Rebellion."

_Author's Note: Because I'm a fan of Mon Mothma (aged around 80 here), and needed to get this plot bunny out to move onto other things. _


End file.
